


Back in Black

by ptw30



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftermath, Black Paladin - Freeform, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Operation Kuron, Post Season 4, Shiro Week 2017, Shiro's been through hell and the others aren't going to take it anymore, gen ficlets, most likely, set sometime during season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-04 07:22:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12765978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ptw30/pseuds/ptw30
Summary: In honor of Shiro Week 2017 - here is a helping of gen fics to celebrate my favorite paladin, Shiro! All prompts, save day 7, are written sometime in season 5 after Shiro escapes his time in Galra captivity. All fics are gen.Day 1: Space/Time (both!) -  “Burritos and What They Mean in Space"Day 2: Original - "The Greatest Gift"Day 3: Break/Mend (both!) - "Lullaby"Day 4: The Black Bayard - "The Black Bayard’s True Form"Day 5: Companion - "Things to Do in the Astral Plane When You’re Bored"Day 6: Duty - "A Paladin's Sacred Duty"Day 7: Free Day/AU - Blade!Shiro Story - "Not Ready"





	1. Burritos and What They Mean in Space

**Author's Note:**

> Summary: Following Operation Kuron, Real!Shiro returns to the castle-ship and has a problem acclimating after so much time away.

One year.

“…great place in the middle of the H-S-O,” Hunk said every letter. “Head chef’s name is Tyleo. Dude makes the most awesome burritos. You definitely need to snag one of the – ”

The Galra had stolen another year from Shiro, and in that time, someone who looked like him took his place on the bridge of the Castle of Lions and in Voltron. That person helped to build a coalition side-by-side with the Blade of Marmora and rebel fighters, building a refugee camp and a quasi-utopia on Olkarion.

And Shiro missed it all.

Keith was almost twenty now, and Lance had grown another two inches. Pidge found Matt, and Hunk perfected the space equivalent of a chocolate chip cookies. Allura found her footing in Blue and as a leader in the coalition while Shiro spent a year in Galra captivity, his mind safeguarded by Black but his body drained of its quintessence for Haggar’s experiments.

He felt violated and unsteady, lost in this new world. But the struggle went on far longer than the week since he’d awoken. Since Kerberos, he hadn’t been able to find steady ground. First, the mission failure, the arena and Haggar’s experiments. Then forming Voltron and finding out Zarkon had been the previous Black Paladin. Keith and Allura’s tension, Slav (why couldn’t he forget Slav?), the final battle, and then –

This. Now. Olkarion.

He was still falling, unable to find purchase, flailing in an abyss he might never escape.

A hand fell upon his shoulder, halting his plummet. “It’s a bit overwhelming, isn’t it?”

Shiro managed to send Keith a weak smile. “A little. It-It’s certainly an amazing place.”

But there was still so much he’d missed, and looking through the front viewer screen, Shiro surveyed the layout of what Lance affectionately called “Home Sweet Olkarion,” or HSO. It was the area the Olkari allotted for the coalition to house refugees and freedom fighters. Taujeerans lived alongside Balmerans, Puigans alongside Arusians. Packed streets formed diverse sections that eventually connected to become this welcoming city. It housed those who opposed Zarkon and his reign, as well as those who didn’t have a place to go if their homeworld had been destroyed.

But did he have a place here as well? Now, after so much time had passed. Did Shiro have a place in the Castle of Lions, as a paladin, as an advisor, as a friend?

“Of course you do,” Keith murmured at his side.

Shiro cursed himself. He must have said something to get that poignant reaction. When he turned, the others were staring at him with varying degrees of concern and hurt.

Lance crossed his arms, looking far too much like Keith for Shiro’s liking. “Hey, we didn’t go all the way to Hell and back – ”

“ – or the Karthan-Sigma Quadrant,” Pidge interjected.

“ – that, too – just for you to check out on us.”

“Of course you have a place in the Castle of Lions, Shiro.” Allura came forward to take his hands in her own, squeezing tightly. “This is your home and where you belong.”

“Yeah, and if not here – ” Keith motioned toward the Black Paladin’s seat at the front of the bridge. “ – then over there.” The Blue Paladin’s seat. “And if not there, then here.” Coran’s console. He squeezed Shiro’s shoulder again, not letting go this time. “You will always have a place with us, no matter what you decide.”

The Black Lion had chosen him, welcomed him back and roared the moment he stepped into its cockpit. But fitting into the space that the other-him had occupied, discovering just who his family, who  _these_ paladins, had become, and finding his place among them, seemed indomitable.

“Take all the time you need, Shiro.” Pidge smiled. “There’s no rush. We can wait to have you back out there with us.”

“Actually, we can’t wait to have you back out there,” Lance corrected, “but we will.”

So much to learn – the Black Bayard and his new arm, the coalition, the Blades, and the freedom fighters – where to even start?

Hunk came forward, clasping Shiro on the opposite arm than Keith and thumbing back toward the exit. “So… there’s this great place in the middle of the HSO. Head chef’s name is Tyleo. Dude makes the most awesome burritos. You wanna meet him and maybe try a few?”

This time, Shiro didn’t have the force the smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”


	2. The Greatest Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro Week Day 2: Original/Divergent
> 
> Lance feels bad for not having saved Shiro from the Galra Empire sooner. Shiro thanks him for it.

It was the little things the paladins realize later. The way Shiro buttered his toast with food goo or the way he always worked out in the morning. He listened to them, gave their thoughts and battle observations credence. He never put them down, and though he yelled, he never barked

Not like the person they eventually dubbed Kuron.

After they found whom Lance affectionately called “The OG Shiro,” Keith refused to let him out of his sight. More than once the paladins saw the duo coming out of the same room in the morning. Hunk made a point to make all of Shiro’s favorite foods, despite the Black Paladin’s weak but true reassurance. Lance, too, found a spot against Shiro during movie nights and all-around meetings, and Pidge placed a tracking device in Shiro’s new arm and debated whether they should implant one in him as well. (Shiro vetoed that despite a paladin majority vote.) Allura, too, began to cling to Shiro, sharing the training deck with him almost as much as Keith.

Perhaps the biggest shock was the first time the original five paladins came together again. Hearing Shiro yell, “Form Voltron,” followed by the infectious warmth that could only come from their once-lost leader – it brought tears to Hunk’s eyes and a giddiness in Pidge’s voice, quiet but true affection from Keith, and absolute dismay from Lance.

How could they had ever thought Kuron was Shiro?

When they returned to the bridge and Shiro made his way up the few steps from the Black Paladin’s console, he slung an arm about Keith’s shoulders and ruffled Pidge’s hair. He fist-pumped Hunk but stopped when he turned to Lance, who approached him without his usual post-win glee.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, wringing the back of his neck, unable to meet Shiro’s concerned gaze. “We-We should have known, and we didn’t. And – And because of that – you went through hell, and – and I know this doesn’t make up for it.” The tears slipped down his cheeks, and his hands fell to his sides, open and helpless. “But I’m really – ”

Large, firm hands clasped his shoulders, and before he could catch himself, Lance looked up. Shiro stared at him with a wordless apology, but what would Shiro have to be sorry for?  _He_ was the one taken.  _He_ was the one trapped and lost and hurt over and over by the Galra again, and they hadn’t had a clue.

Shiro’s face blurred until Lance’s couldn’t see it, and then he felt himself being pulled forward. Shiro folded his arms over Lance’s shoulders and tucked Lance’s slighter frame against his own, and the solacing warm and comfortable hold – something Kuron had only done once with them – fueled Lance’s sobs. They became messy and loud, and he couldn’t stop them. How was it that he had wanted to comfort Shiro and instead found himself being consoled?

But Shiro never shushed him. Instead, he simply hung on until Lance wore himself out and then, in the waking silence, whispered, “Thank you, Lance.”

“Thank you?” Lance tried to tug away, only to be let go as far as arm’s length. “Why are you thanking  _me?_  We left you there. We – ”

“I actually don’t remember much. By the time I was waking up, you were already there, welcoming me back, so I wasn’t ever really alone with the Galra. Not that I remember.”

“But – ”

“But you saved me,  _again_. You guys always find me when I’m lost, and you always bring me back. You taught me I’m not alone. I’m  _never_  alone, even when in Galran captivity. I don’t think there’s a greater gift than that, so yes. Thank  _you_ , Lance.”

Lance found the tears starting again, but then Keith was there, wrapping his strong arms around them. By his expression, Lance guessed Shiro had given him this speech, too.

Hunk and Pidge joined in, followed by Coran and Allura. And yeah, they’d lost Shiro again, but they’d gotten him back, too. And to Lance, that was the greatest gift there ever could be.


	3. Lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3: Break/Mend (both!) - Shiro is nervous during the usual self-care/health procedures after so many times on a Galra surgical table. Keith finds a way to help Shiro cope.
> 
>  **Warning:** Discussions of triggers and some graphic sickness during Shiro’s imprisonment. 

Allura appeared frightened, shaken when Keith entered the medical bay. She stood by the edge of the ruffled bed and forced her fingers to fold before her thighs.

“I – I just wanted to check his temperature,” she attempted to justify before shaking her head and stepping to the side. Just behind her crouched Coran, who murmured to a thoroughly unhinged Shiro. The newly recovered Black Paladin huddled in the corner of the room, legs to his chest, breath hitched, eyes wide and trembling.

At this rate, he would hyperventilate.

Keith placed a hand upon Coran’s shoulder, not startling the older man who seemed relieved to see him arrive. The Red Paladin knelt before his oldest friend, not quite sure if Shiro actually saw him or not, and began to time his breathing to Shiro’s ragged ones. Then, once he caught Shiro’s attention, those frightened eyes steadied. Keith held his breath then, counted to three, and then released it. The next time he did it, Shiro attempted to follow his lead, but could only hold it for two seconds. Keith persisted, not pushing, just continuing his breathing exercises. Eventually, Shiro’s matched his and returned to normal.

“You okay?”

Shiro flushed, sweat still dribbling down his forehead, and he wiped a shaking hand across his face. “I-I’m sorry. It was a just a thermometer. I know.  _I know_ , and yet – ”

“Don’t apologize.” Keith shifted to sit against the wall next to Shiro and thread their fingers together loosely. “You can’t control triggers, and you shouldn’t have to.”

“But it’s just – ”

“No, no it’s not. It reminds of you of your time with the empire.” He gave a gentle squeeze. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Coran and Allura gave them privacy as the tremors overtook Shiro’s frame again, but he forged ahead nonetheless, recounting to Keith about a cool tester the Druids would press against his forehead. It clouded his thoughts and stirred his stomach, forcing him to puke over and over. Sometimes they would let him up and other times – Shiro shuttered and faltered, but Keith held on.

He dipped his head against Shiro’s shoulder, blinking back his own tears, and when Shiro covered his face, Keith shifted again. This time, he lowered himself into Shiro’s lap, straddling Shiro’s thighs, and pulled Shiro against his chest. He sought some way to soothe Shiro’s frayed nerves and suddenly began to hum, a soft, tender song he remembered from his youth.

When Allura and Coran returned, they offered a different option – a quick scan in a cryopod to check Shiro’s temperature and see if his illness was a virus or the flu.

But a pattern emerged. Cotton swabs, antiseptic, tweezers, safety pins, and the kitchen tongs – their noises or sights or smells always made Shiro nervous or uncomfortable. Some even shocked him enough to cause a panic attack, but one thing always seemed to comfort Shiro.  

Keith’s subtle humming.

Keith brushed back Shiro’s bangs every time he tensed, held onto those trembling fingers, and let the soft sounds ensconce Shiro in a tender embrace.

Shiro relaxed and rested his chin upon on the top of Keith’s head, limp arms holding Keith in a loose hug. He made a thoughtful noise, which prompted Keith to ask, “What?”

“Hm. It’s nothing.”

“ _Shiro_.”

“The lullaby. It’s just something I remember from my time with the Galra. I think…I think someone used to hum it to me when I was there, after the worst experiments.”

Keith tensed. All this time, Keith thought he had been comforting Shiro and instead, he was reminding Shiro of his torture?

“It always made me feel better,” Shiro said, cocking his head to the side and regarding Keith with a sad smile. “Just like it does now.”

Keith relaxed then, too, and leaned his forehead against Shiro’s chest. This time, Shiro began to hum the lullaby, a deep, rich song of warmth and serenity. He continued even after the doors to the lounge open and Coran walked in.

“Ah! I haven’t heard the Galran traditional song of love in quite the quintaint.”

Shiro and Keith both blushed, though didn’t break from their solacing hold.

“You two might not know it” Coran continued, “but the Galra were once very affectionate beings. This song represented that. It was sung by parents to children, to siblings, to lovers, to friends. Love comes in many different forms, young paladins, but not one is wrong.” He winked then, picked up his ticker – and the mouse holding it – and walked out.

Keith watched as Shiro’s mind went back to that place with the Druids and the arena and the past he still didn’t remember completely, but Keith refused to follow or let him stay there long. Despite whatever message its bearer meant when singing to Shiro, it meant one thing to Keith, and he knew it meant the same thing to Shiro.


	4. The Black Bayard’s True Form

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4: The Black Bayard - Shiro’s bayard takes many a form, including some unexpected ones.

It was heartbreaking at first, when Shiro couldn’t activate the Black Bayard. Hunk watched as Keith handed the glowing, unformed weapon to the Black Paladin, and an immense feeling of power and  _right_ , like the cosmos themselves aligned and celebrated, washed over Hunk. He shared a knowing look with Lance, whose lips upturned in a subdued but contented grin. He felt the energy, too. They all did.

But the Black Bayard didn’t transform instantaneously like its counterparts had with the other paladins. Hunk held his breath. After everything Shiro went through not only to bond with his lion but to return to the team –  _again_  – Hunk wasn’t sure how Shiro would react to such a devastating blow. Would he question his right to Black again? Would he insist Keith was the rightful Black Paladin like his replacement had?

Instead, Shiro just shook the weapon up and down like it was a Magic 8 Ball and shrugged. “Maybe I broke it?”

The universe itself stilled of its joyous melody until Shiro laughed, releasing the tension that had stifled the training deck. Keith was the first to step forward and show Shiro how he wielded his, and then Lance joined him, forming both his blaster and rifle. They each took turns showing Shiro how to use a bayard, but unfortunately, nothing helped the Black Bayard to take shape in Shiro’s hand.

Shiro flashed that disappointed smile, and it broke Hunk’s heart. “It’s all right. Black welcomed me back, and we know my bayard works with Keith’s when we form Voltron. It’s enough.”

It wasn’t, of course.

Hunk made Shiro’s favorite food that night, an almost-but-not quite macaroni and cheese, and Shiro smiled that warm grin, the one he reserved only for the paladins. It was thoughtful and brilliant, and it crinkled the skin about his shimmering eyes. But there was also a resignation in his gaze, an easy acceptance after everything he’d endured.

“I wasn’t lying, Hunk,” Shiro admitted when they were alone in the kitchen, gathering the plates for a team dinner in the lounge. “I’m here, back with the team. Black and I are bonded. It’s enough.”

But Hunk didn’t want Shiro to settle for “enough.”

Apparently, neither did Black.

It happened during a battle with Lotor’s generals. Hunk swung toward Ezor, but Axca came up his six. There was no way he could attack both at once – but before Axca landed a hit, a purple chain wrapped about Hunk’s waist and tugged him out of either general’s reach.

Shiro’s bayard had transformed. And it continued to do so as needed. When fighting back-to-back with Keith, the bayard took the form of a broadsword. When helping Lance, it shifted into a blaster – one time even dual guns. With Pidge and Allura, it generally formed the aforementioned chain, and with Hunk, it shifted into a complementing canon. Whatever Shiro needed, the bayard became.

However, Hunk never expected to walk into the kitchen one morning to find Shiro leaning against the counter, nursing coffee – in a shimmering purple mug.

He shrugged, nonplussed. “We didn’t have a clean one.”

For some reason, Hunk felt he shouldn’t have been surprised.


	5. Things to Do in the Astral Plane When You’re Bored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5: ~~Isolation~~ /Companion: Shiro remembers his time away from the team. He wasn’t alone.
> 
>  **Warning:** Angsty ending - but considering this takes place before my first Shiro Week prompt-fill happens - you know there is a happy ending ultimately. :)

“And what is the purpose of this game again?”

Shiro shrugged. “To teach kids how to count and match like objects, I assume. Got any three’s?”

Zarkon, the emperor of the known universe, former Black Paladin and resident overlord, looked down at his deck of quintessence playing cards and replied as regally as possible, “Go trout.”

Shiro didn’t even try to stifle his laughter. “It’s Go  _Fish_ , Your Majesty. Trout is a type of fish.”

Back before they ended up together in exile or purgatory or wherever they were, Shiro never thought it would be possible to see Zarkon pout, and it brought a smile to his lips. Though Zarkon had undoubtedly changed since his time as a zombie-slash-possessed paladin, Shiro still found it quite amusing to see the regal emperor with his chin propped up on his hand, surveying his cards and attempting to remember parts of Shiro’s cultural from Earth.

Black, in a true lion form, lay between them, its massive head resting upon Shiro’s laps, its tail wrapped about Zarkon’s leg.

“And your people find this game engaging?” Zarkon asked before requesting four’s from Shiro. He absently petted Black’s flank.

Shiro handed a card over. “It passes the time.”

“That is debatable.”

Shiro arched an eyebrow. “Do you want to spar again? It’s only been twelve dobashes since the last time we did that.”

“Hm. It does not please me to continue to bring you defeat, and you need to keep your strength for the next event.” He abandoned his cards upon Black’s back, and it was just as well. Zarkon was winning this hand. “However, I would like to see if you are able to teleport to different sectors of the plane. That will help once you are fighting alongside your team again.”

Once, not if. At the warm tone in Zarkon’s voice, Shiro found himself wondering, “Do you miss them?”

Zarkon didn’t need to ask whom. “Very much so. I did not realize how much – or how long I had mourned them. Long before Daibazaal was destroyed. We had already drifted apart by then.”

Shiro nodded, pensive and silent as he disperse the cards and ruffled Black’s mane.

“I assume you miss your kin.”

“My teammates?” Black shifted to nuzzle Shiro’s stomach. “We weren’t related.”

“I do not believe there is a more intimate bond than sharing a soul, Takashi. Kin is perhaps even too general a term for what you mean to your paladins and what they mean to you.”

“Then how could have you killed Alfor?” Shiro spouted, and his sudden sharp tone startled Black. “How could you have betrayed the very people you say you regarded as family and – ”

“ – you fear you could do the same.”

The simple, factual way Zarkon spoke the declaration silenced Shiro.

Zarkon’s massive hand upon his shoulder was no longer dreaded or uncomfortable but rather welcomed and consoling. “Takashi, life is very rarely black and white. Power corrupts, but so does love. The best you can do is resolve to save the ones you can, mourn the ones you cannot, and hope that when you fail – you do not conquer 95 percent of the known universe while possessed by foreign beings who invaded your reality through a supernatural rift.”

Shiro blinked and turned the thought over in his head. “That was not reassuring. Was it supposed to be?”

“Let me put it a different way.” A solemn expression enveloped Zarkon’s face, and he absentmindedly petted Black’s head when it glanced up at him, eyes forlorn and sympathetic. “Surround yourself with good people. Allow them to guide you as much as you guide them, and when faced with a difficult decision, always choose to trust them rather than to deceive.”

“You’re telling me you should have trusted Alfor.”

“I should have done a lot of things, though I’m not sure trusting Alfor should ever have been one of them,” Zarkon laughed, a rather pleasant sound. “He was quite foolhardy with his own life. I often feared for his safety.”

Black huffed in agreement.

Shiro found himself returning the grin. “Sounds a lot like Keith.”

“Keith?” Black nudged Zarkon’s right arm, informing the emperor. “Ah, the kit. Your Red Paladin. Yes. Reds are notorious for their…passion, however intense it may be.”

That described Keith, and he glanced at Black, who let out an uncharacteristic whimper. Keith had yet to connect fully with Black, refusing to take Shiro’s place. But Black held some tether to Keith and through it, allowed Shiro to feel his oldest friend’s pain.

It was searing on Keith’s good days and debilitating on his worst.

Zarkon’s hand tightened upon his shoulder before releasing. “Come. Allow me to show you how to teleport here, and we’ll see if – ”

After patting Black on the head, Shiro had begun to stand – only to have the air wrenched out of him. His strength dwindled to nothing, buckling his knees and sending him face-first to the rocky ground.

“Takashi!” Zarkon cried. Black nudged his side.

Unfathomable pain – worse than any he rememberd during Haggar’s first round of experiments – coursed through his veins and drained him of any fight, of any struggle. He simply gave – his power, his strength, his tears – anything he had, and still, it wasn’t enough.

Haggar would take everything, eventually.

Zarkon’s shuddering hands seized him by the shoulders, and the emperor maneuvered Shiro between his bent knees, Shiro’s back against his chest.

“It’ll be over soon,” he soothed, carding his claws through Shiro’s strands. “Hold on a little longer, and it’ll be over.”

Black caressed Shiro’s limp hand, rubbing against it, whimpering when his cries grew louder. He gasped, unable to do anything more, and Zarkon dropped his forehead to Shiro’s and consoled him in the only way he knew how.

He began to hum, a quiet but soothing song that Shiro didn’t know the words to, but never remembered to ask after the fact. Instead, he allowed the words and song to resonate under his skin and spread a natural warmth throughout his body.

Quintessence. Zarkon shared his quintessence.

The pain never ceased, but it lightened just enough for Shiro to survive until Haggar finished her latest test.

Then Zarkon would apologize. He would continue to comfort Shiro until Shiro’s breathing returned to normal and his tears dried, and then he would show Shiro how to use the powers he had been given.

Eventually, Haggar’s experiments would start again, and the cycle would begin anew.


	6. A Paladin’s Sacred Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 6: Duty/ ~~Choice~~ : Shiro takes his duty as Black Paladin seriously, but there might be a bit more to his fastidious attention than just obligation.
> 
> A/N: Special thanks to [@fenfishtrap](https://fenfishtrap.tumblr.com/) for brainstorming and giving me the idea!

Allura noticed the routine during Shiro’s first tenure as the Black Paladin. In fact, she joined him quite a few times on the observation deck. She helped him study the constellations, review the battle logs, and round out his knowledge of the Galran language. (The latter was much to her dismay, though she couldn’t help but agree that having a paladin who could read and speak the empire’s language was beneficial in the field.)

Kuron never took the observation deck, though Allura found Keith there many times, legs to his chest, just watching the planets and stars revolve like he still sought the other half of his soul.

Once Shiro returned, though, Allura found him on the deck almost daily, reviewing every battle strategy, every training session. Sometimes he spoke with Kolivan, sometimes with Ryner. He looked over charts and reports, tapped on datapads and hung checklists to complete.

“How long have you been up here?” she asked once. She’d found Shiro sitting cross-legged on the floor, still wearing his paladin armor below the waist, but at least he’d had the wherewithal to shed his chest plate and gloves. Books from the castle’s archives surrounded him, open to various pages and tagged in colored tabs, while transparent screens hovering at eye-level bathed his face in a sea-green hue.

Shiro shrugged. “A little bit after the fight. Hunk suggested I eat first, and then – ”

“ – you came up here,” she finished. “Shiro, it’s been almost half a quintaint. You need to rest.”

“Coran mentioned that the last robeast reminded him of a former ally of Altea.” He scribbled something on his pad, glancing up every so often at the screen before him. “I thought if we could locate where the prisoner came from, we might be able to – ”

“Shiro.” She came to crouch in front of him, placing a hand upon his and squeezing gently. “You once told me that it’s best for everyone if I rested. The same can be said about you.”

“But this data – ”

“ – will be here after you rest. A few vargas, at least.”

Shiro struggled, eyes relaying his internal struggle, but exhaustion must have crept up on him, now that Allura point it out. The fight fled from him, shoulders turning inward as he surrendered and allowed himself to be led away.

She discussed the issue with the paladins at their next briefing, making sure to call Shiro five dobashes late, so the team could speak freely. They all agreed, much to her relief. Shiro needed to be watched and prodded to rest, and together, they would show a united front.

Only – the next time she went to find Shiro on the observation deck, Allura also found Keith. The Red Paladin was stretched out on the couch behind Shiro, head resting against Shiro’s back, legs dangling off the side of the makeshift bed. So much for his help.

Following a training session, she found Keith passed out again and Pidge huddling near Shiro. The Green Paladin spoke animatedly about some sort of pattern she noticed when fighting the last robeast.

Hunk joined the next session, bringing with him canapés and personal-sized portions of macaroni and cheese and a huge helping of garlic knots. Lance lay stomach-down on the opposite side of the couch from Keith, legs twisted at the ankles, reading the book in front of him and highlighting certain sections.

“Enough!” Allura screamed, waking Keith up and startling the rest of the paladins. “I asked for your help, not for you to – to  _enable_  Shiro to continue this harmful pattern. He needs to – ”

“Hey, ‘lura?” Lance swallowed his last knot and nodded toward the door. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

Allura let out a frustrated growl – not unlike when she channeled Keith – but followed Lance into the hallway nonetheless. As she turned around, ready to unleash her full fury upon him, Lance said with a shrug, “He needs this.”

“Shiro needs to go over logs and reports and charts until he can no longer stand? That’s what – ”

“For now? Yeah, he does. It’s his coping mechanism. He’s – He’s scared, Allura. Third time’s the charm, y’know?” Lance glanced over his shoulder, brows set with worry. “He’s already been taken from us twice, so he’s trying his best not to leave again. Trying to learn as much as he can. Trying to stop it from ever happening to one of us. He needs to do this, Allura.”

Her anger fizzled instantly, replaced by an urgent concern. “But he’ll burn out eventually, Lance.”

He flashed one of his true grins; they were always radiant. “That’s why we’re here. He usually ends up curling up next to Keith or passing out on Pidge. Hunk makes sure he eats, and – and it works, Allura.  _We_  work, but you already know that, don’t you?”

Yes, she did. She was one of them, after all.

“So you know what you have to do.”

Lance reached out his hand to her, fingers wiggling in a teasing gesture. With a fond smile and a mocking roll of her eyes, Allura took Lance’s hand and followed him back into the room. There, she settled down on Shiro’s side and asked what she could do to help.

Shiro blinked, taken back at first, but then cocked a tired grin. “You don’t happen to know Ancient Kromorian, do you?”

She took the datapad with a tiny nod and dove into Shiro’s research as well. Less than a varga later, she helped to heave the sleeping Shiro onto the couch and drape a blanket across his still form.

None of the paladins left Shiro’s side. Instead they took spots on the floor, on the couch, and in the chairs to safe keep their precious leader and beloved friend.


	7. Blade!Shiro - Not Ready

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 7: Free Day/AU - Part of the [Blade!Shiro series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/815298), Kolivan is hurt, and Shiro refuses to leave his side. His pack doesn’t let him suffer alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked a while ago about Kolivan and the Galra being much older than Shiro in his series, so how could Kolivan make Shiro his second-in-command since Kolivan will clearly outlive Shiro? I thought at the time that the Galra had the same life span humans, and they just counted their years differently. Well, [@fenfishtrap](https://fenfishtrap.tumblr.com/) happened with [her stories](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sol1056/pseuds/Sol1056) and - she’s to blame for the Galra’s longer life span here.

Shiro hadn’t moved in the fifteen vargas since he returned from the mission, except to use the bathroom. Even then, he didn’t wash up. He simply did his business and returned to sit cross-legged in front of the cryo-pod, waiting for Kolivan to heal.

He sent a coded message to Ulaz to return to the headquarters as soon as possible, though the base doctor – Grysok – informed him that Kolivan would emerge from the pod within the next movement or so. But Kolivan never took any chances with his pack, and neither would Shiro.

Antok took over running the current field operations, but Shiro put a halt on ones that were to deploy within the movement. He should be in the Hilt, helping Antok, or decoding communications or making sure Keith wasn’t getting stuck in the flux capacitor again – and yet here he sat, cloak open, gloves off, boots still smeared with Kolivan’s blood as he waited for the Blade leader to finish the cycle. 

When the door opened behind him, Shiro pushed to his feet and swiveled toward Ulaz – before starting. Instead of Ulaz, Thace stood before him, still wearing his lieutenant garb from the Galra Empire.

“Ulaz asked me to come. He’s currently in the Javeeno Star System and will unable to get back in time.”

“But Kolivan – ”

“ – is in good hands here with Grysok and the base technicians,” Thace informed with a low, soothing voice. As he came to stand next to Shiro, his eyes rested upon Kolivan, and perhaps they were the only part of his demeanor that betrayed his calm front. “I spoke with Antok. It’s nothing too serious.”

“Kolivan took a blast to the chest – at almost point-blank range!”

“And you used some sort of healing device to close the wound and get him here in time.”

Shiro’s chain still hung about his neck, though now it was void of the small Balmera crystal that once hung there. “Yes, but – ”

“Kolivan gave you that as a gift. He wouldn’t have wanted you to use it to save his – ”

“I don’t care!” Shiro fumed, hands tightening into shaking fists. “He was dying, Thace.  _Dying_. I wasn’t going to just stand there and let him – ”

Thace’s hand felt heavy, clamping down upon Shiro’s shoulder. “You did well, Shiro, but he chose you to be his second-in-command. He’d want you to be in the Hilt, taking charge and continuing the mission. He wouldn’t want you sitting here, worrying.”

Shiro glanced over his shoulder, hating the way the strong Blade leader looked so pale, so lifeless, trapped inside that crystal prison. “I’m…I’m not ready, Thace. I can’t lose him.”

Thace’s grip tightened, his second hand coming up to hold Shiro’s opposite shoulder, too. “Shiro, you’ll never be ready. Hey - listen to me. When you love someone, it doesn’t matter if it’s today or ten feebs from now. You’re never ready to lose them.”

“I’m not leaving him, Thace. I need to be here.” Shiro lifted his chin to glare into Thace’s determined face, ready to fight if need be.

Thace sighed. “Shiro, since you’ve become pack, you’ve grown a few inches. Your face has tightened, your muscle mass stronger. Have you noticed Kolivan or Antok or Ulaz change in a similar fashion?”

Shiro thought and then shook his head.

“Kolivan didn’t want you to know. He feared you’d doubt his decision to take you as his second-in-command, but –  _we_  will never be ready. Not you.”

Shock struck Shiro hard and fast, but Thace was there, dipping his head to run his jaw across Shiro’s and draw him close. Shiro’s mind couldn’t quite comprehend – his pack would outlive him, despite being him being decafeebs older than him? Would Keith?

“Keith seems to age at the same rate as you, but Ulaz doesn’t know if that will change.” Thace held him at arm’s length before patting Shiro on the back. “It is not something to discuss today, but I wanted you to know – we know how you feel, Shiro.”

Because one day, they’d lose him.

“I still…” Shiro once more turned back to Kolivan, only for Thace to wrap his arms about Shiro from behind.

“Sit and rest,” Thace urged. “Let me get out of this uniform, and I’ll be back in a few with some food and supplies for us.”

When Shiro turned, Thace ruffled his hair like he was twelve and started toward the exit.

 _“Us?_ ” Shiro echoed.

Thace smiled as he walked backwards. “Yes, Shiro. I came to spend the rest of the movement with you, but if you do not take a shower in the next quintaint or so, you’ll have to deal with Antok. And no one is ever ready for that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading my prompts this week! I hope you enjoyed Shiro Week as much as I did, and here’s to many more!


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